


New Year's Resolutions

by rubberglue



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-03
Updated: 2013-03-03
Packaged: 2017-12-04 04:30:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/706566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubberglue/pseuds/rubberglue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the new year and Arthur is trying to avoid his evil step-sister, schedule his life and make some sensible resolutions. Modern AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	New Year's Resolutions

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently, I wrote this then never posted it. I'm not sure why.

Morgana was evil. And yet, he could not say no to her. It was this toxic combination that led him to her apartment where, based on the noise coming from behind her door, a party was evidently in full swing. Sighing, he pushed the door open, slightly miffed that she hadn’t locked it, and slipped into the apartment. With the loud music and the gaudy decoration, he could barely recognise it as the penthouse his father had bought for her. Morgana was probably doing it on purpose. She hated that she lived in a house Uther bought and went to great lengths to demonstrate that, short of walking out because walking out would mean living with Arthur and that apparently was a fate worse than death. Arthur thought he was a pretty good housemate. Merlin never complained. Not much. Only once a day - that wasn’t much right?

Scanning the crowd, he spotted Morgana immediately. Grabbing the wine she insisted he bring, he made his way through the throng of people to her. Once he passed her the wine, he could go back to his apartment and sulk as he was before he received Morgana’s frantic phone call. Only Morgana would panic over not having enough wine. And of course not any wine would do. He had to drive to Uther’s place and grab a few bottles of his best. Good thing his father was dead. Arthur wasn’t quite in the mood to explain why he was stealing wine. As it was, Geoffrey, the estate manager, stared at him warily the whole time he was there. 

“You came!” 

“What the -” Arthur jumped as someone grabbed his arm, only to see it was Merlin. “You traitor!” He hissed loudly.

“What?”

“I just lost a major contract and am feeling down. And you are here enjoying yourself?”

“I didn’t realise being your personal assistant meant drowning your sorrows with you! And it’s new year’s eve. Why are you here if you wanted to sulk anyway?” Merlin shouted as he bobbed to the music.

Arthur rolled his eyes and shoved Merlin away, whose only response was to grin and do some strange air guitar movements. Why was Merlin his friend? He was such a lousy friend too. Which friend spent time at a bad party instead of watching reruns of bad movies with him? He needed new friends. Better put that on his list of resolutions.

“Your wine, your majesty.” Arthur held out the box of wine. 

“Arthur! Took you long enough. This,” she purred, “is Leon. Leon, this is my brother, Arthur Pendragon.”

“Great. Take the box will you? I’ve got to go home and do more sulking.”

“Aww. That contract wasn’t worth it anyway. Cenred is a snake.” Morgana let go of Leon’s arm and ran her hand across his shoulder. “And couldn’t you be a darling and put the wine in the kitchen for me?”

Arthur shrugged her hand away. “Morgana, don’t flirt with me. It’s very weird.”

“Be nice!” Morgana yelled at him as he turned to go to the kitchen. Be nice? She must be drunk already. His next resolution would be to stop letting Morgana push him around.

Grumbling under his breath, Arthur stalked into the kitchen and slammed the box onto the island. Finally. Now he could -

“Arthur?”

He stilled. Maybe he was the drunk one. Except he hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol today. 

“Arthur?” The voice was still there calling his name. It was the voice he thought of before he went to sleep. The voice which haunted his dreams. Dreams that could hardly be called suitable for the general public. 

He would kill Morgana. That would be resolution number three. 

Plastering a smile on his face, he turned. “Guinevere. Fancy meeting you in Morgana’s kitchen.”

Her returning smile made his knees weak and he quickly grabbed the edge of the island. “Arthur! I’ve not seen you in forever.” With horror, he realised that she was walking towards him. If she lay a hand on him or even stood too close, he might completely lose control and grab her and kiss her the way he’d been dreaming of for months. And then Guinevere would hate him and Morgana would murder him in his sleep.

As smoothly as possible, he moved so that the kitchen island was between them. Thankfully she stopped at the island although she did look somewhat confused. 

“So, how’s Lance?” His voice came out quite normal and he congratulated himself on his quick thinking. Get her gushing over Lance like she did the last time he met her and he’ll remember why he needed to keep his distance. “Still working with my competitor?”

“Oh. Morgana didn’t tell you?” She chewed her lip and she looked down. “We broke up. You were right. Lance was more in love with his vision of me than me.”

“Ah.” Of course bringing up Lance would lead to her remembering his last conversation with her, during which he thought it was a brilliant idea to tell her that her boyfriend didn’t love her. In his slightly tipsy state, he’d convinced himself that by doing so, he’d have a chance with her. The reality was that he probably ruined any chance of friendship. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that.”

She smiled tentatively. “Well, as I said, you were right. Also, it was months ago.”

“Right. So I should be going -”

“Oh, you’re not staying for the party?”

“No. I have to go home and sulk.”

She raised her eyebrows. “You have a schedule for sulking?”

“I do. I have a schedule for everything.” What was wrong with his brain and mouth? Clearly they were collaborating to ensure that he’d never have a chance with Guinevere.

Her laughter pierced his sullen thoughts and suddenly, she was next to him, his island protection of no use. He gulped as he stared down into her face. She was beautiful. 

There was tension, he realised after staring silently at her. There was tension between them. She was no longer laughing and her eyes dropped to his lips before flicking back up to his. 

“You don’t keep a schedule?” He rasped. Unable to help himself, he took a strand of her hair and wrapped it around his finger. This was better than devouring her with a kiss he told himself. 

“No.” Her voice too was lower, softer and her eyes wide. “I tend to be more impulsive.” She licked her lips.

“Impulsiveness can get you into trouble.” Why was her hand on his chest? And why was his cupping her face?

“It can also be very exciting.” Her breath tickled his chin. 

“I might have a few minutes in my schedule for a kiss.”

He thought she might have laughed. He might have laughed too but did it really matter since her body was pressed against his, her fingers in his hair and her lips moving against his? In case you were wondering, it didn’t matter. Mainly because Arthur couldn’t process anything in his brain anymore.

When Guinevere opened her mouth, allowing him access to more of her, Arthur groaned and pulled her closer, his hands moving from her waist up until they came to her breasts. He slid his thumb across the underside and she sighed into his mouth. He cupped one, squeezing gently. She pressed herself against his groin and moved. 

“Guinevere,” he muttered, pulling away. “This -”

Her eyes sparkling, her hand smoothing over his chest, she smiled. “Isn’t in your schedule?”

“No, but I’ll make space for you in my schedule anytime.” He smiled at the cheesiness but the gnawing anxiety that had taken up residency in his stomach the moment he noticed Guinevere was in his vicinity disappeared. And she grinned back at him and he remembered all the reasons he was smitten with her.

“Now?” Then she ran her fingers along his waistband. “I’m not usually this impulsive, really.” Then she was looking at him, a blush staining her cheeks and shyness in her eyes. “But -”

“But?”

“I’ve been thinking about you.” Her fingers untucked his shirt and slid underneath. He sucked in a breath at her touch and her confession. “ You don’t think that’s creepy do you?”

“Well, yes. But seeing that I’ve been doing the same, I’m in no position to judge.”

“Oh?”

He caught her wandering hands and leaned over to kiss her, pressing her against the island. “How about we go somewhere else and I tell you all about what I think about when I think about you?”

Merlin grinned and gave him the thumbs up sign as he ushered Guinevere out of the apartment. Morgana looked far too pleased with herself. But really, Arthur didn’t care, not with Guinevere snug against his side, her hands touching him despite his protests.

The moment they entered his place, whatever restraint they had in the cab ride completely evaporated. Slamming the door shut, he pushed her against it and tore at the buttons of her blouse. Her breath was hot against his ear and she wriggled against him, her tongue dipping into the shell of his ear. That touch alone was enough to send arrows of desire to his groin. It took a while but he managed to strip her of her blouse. Unwilling to waste anymore time trying to take off her clothes, he pushed her bra up, allowing her breasts to spill out. 

And they were gorgeous, like every other part of her he had slowly uncovered.

He dipped his head to taste her and was rewarded with a squeal and hands that grasped frantically at his hair. Sweet, he thought, as he took her nipple into his mouth, licking and suckling. 

“Arthur,” she panted, her nails digging into his scalp. Her hips jerked against him and he moved his hands lower to her jeans. The button was too difficult for his trembling fingers and finally Guinevere’s hands moved down and undid her jeans herself. Following suit, he shrugged off his jeans as well.

Pulling down his boxers, her fingers curled around his length. pulling at it gently.

“You want me,” she whispered.

Arthur laughed. “And you couldn’t tell before this?”

“Just wanted to be sure.” 

Adjusting themselves, he pressed his length against her, rubbing against her. For a while, Arthur simply enjoyed the mewing noises she made as he rutted against her, his hands playing with her breasts. 

Then there was an explosion and he jumped back.

Her eyes fluttered open and she looked at him with a mixture of shock and lust. “What?”

He was a fool. Grimacing, he shook his head and moved towards her. “Fireworks. I think it’s the new year.”

“Oh, well then. If a kiss on new year’s brings luck, I think I’m going to be having a lot of luck.” 

“Mmm, a lot of luck.” And with one smooth thrust, he slid into her. 

It was perfect. Hot, tight, wet.

She whimpered and clung to his shoulders. Her leg wrapped around his waist, she moved, encouraging him to move faster. He must have but he couldn’t really say what happened. All he remembered was the feel of her clenching around him, the smell of her perfume and shampoo, the feel of the skin damp with sweat and the taste of her mouth as she gasped his name.

He also remembered the long moan wrenched from her when she shuddered and came and the way her head fell to his shoulder afterwards and how she licked the sweat from his neck. 

“You were perfect.”

And with those three words, he fell over the edge. 

They repeated it again in his bed. After all, Arthur was a great believer in practising making perfect. In fact he was such a believer, he made that his fourth resolution. And for the next few months, he scheduled in regular practice sessions.


End file.
